Salome
by Gigi the Dancer
Summary: The most famous dance of the world...the seven veils. Actually embellished frm the Bible.
1. Chapter 1

She danced for him. The only sound in the room was the patting of her feet and the steady staccato of her of her heart.

The sweat trickled down between her breasts. The hair on her forehead stuck with sweat. Her breathing was harsh but steady. She slowly circled the room. Her long skirt softly swooshed, the smoke from the incense lamp entwining about her body. It's murky fragrance veiled her darkly lined eyes.

The kings eyes filled with lust and want. He wanted her and he would have her she knew. It was inevitable. She was young, only about the age of a fruit bearing tree. She knew that she was to be given to him tonight. This was the night that he would pluck her just as the ripe peach is taken.

She danced for him. Her lithe and nubile body dipping and swaying. Her steps becoming sharper and faster. Her long and flowing hair glistened in the light. Her body dipping and bouncing and her young breasts swaying in front of his eyes. As she finished her frenzied dancing and lay heavily at his feet, drained and naked she heard his low growl.

"What is it you so want, my child?" he asked in a breathless voice.

Her mind did not hesitate. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of the man who had refused her. "I want the head of John The Baptist."

Her Uncle, the King chuckled. He was killing two birds with one stone tonight. He would get rid of the heretic John and he would get to have his wife's niece in his bed. As the order was given and his messenger rushed for the unpleasant task to be done his hands caressed the young girl before him.

Waiting for the news of the man's death she allowed The King to stroke her. His touch was rough and his grasp greedy. He followed the trails of sweat between her breast and it tickled.

She scrambled from the bedclothes of the King when she heard the messenger's footsteps. He carried a basket and inside of it was her enemy.

She eagerly stared upon the face of the baptizer. The visage of the man looked stoic as though determined even in death to resist her. She eagerly gazed upon his handsome face and deliberately she set her lips to his.

"You fool," she said contemptuously to the severed head. "if only you hadn't refused me." Then Herod awoke from his satisfied stupor and said "well, there is your prize. Now come show me how pleased you are."

Slowly she stood up her long hair cascading down her body and walked slowly away from the King. As she stood at the edge of the balcony she smiled at the thought of John the Baptist. "Maybe I shall see him in Hell" she mused as she plummeted to the hard packed earth below.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey Guys! Thanks to all who have read this…It's supposed to be a one shot. Based on the opera and bible story of Salome.. They never actually mention her name in the Bible Btw. They just called her Herodias's daughter.

The Opera is based On Oscar Wile's book or play. I can wait to see it. But it is the last Opera of the Season. _I have to wait until June!…(grumbles) _

Hurray! It's Election Day. Everyone due your duty and vote! (No School!)

Well.. Let's traverse back in time to the beginning of the tale…

**Salome **

Our beautiful heroine is just about fifteen years old. She has inherited her mother Herodias's looks yet has become more beautiful. The long hair and the fine boned body. Her build was long and lithe. Yet not overly tall. She was the just the right that "became" a woman said her mother.

Her mother has always doted on her. She was spoiled and was given everything. She had twenty of her own slaves, some from as far as Ethiopia.She had her own ruby ring and a gem encrusted goblet for feasts. She also had a bangle made of ivory and gold.She had anything she wanted, sweetmeats and ices from the kitchens to a litter for the dusty streets of Jeusalem.

She was given the title, 'Princess' even though the King, Herod was not her father. Her mother had married him, her father's brother soon after she had reached ten years of age. Her own father who had never been King had died when she was but six.

King Herod her Uncle had always been kind to her yet it had shocked the court when he had bestowed upon her the title of 'Princess' only two years later when she was twelve. (It was only the King's bloodlines and concubines who were given titles. Not the extended family. )

Many of the elders had whispered that it was in anticipation.

A knot grew in her stomach whenever she thought upon her title now. "Anticipation," the Elder Matthias had whispered to Lady Mara "of her being to his wife." She nodded with that knowing smile and proceeded to gossip about Herod's feelings of lustfor his niece.

When she had received her title from her uncle he had made it clear to her that she was to always respect and obey him as now, not only was she a mere citizen of Rome but an honored member of The Royal Court of Judea.

She had just reached the cusp of her womanhood that year. Her Uncle had remarked to her Mother How she was 'blossoming" Her mother had just thought it was in the art of dancing and how graceful Salome was growing not thinking that her beloved husband would want anything from barely a child….

Salome lay now on her mat tears dripping down her face. She did not want to be her Uncle's wife. To be a little wife underneath her own mother. The thought made her wince in pain. She sighed and wiped the tears off her face with her purple silk scarf. Her slave girl Amrita had just came back from the markets. She was full of gossip and laughter over the antics of the performers she had seen.


End file.
